All my life….you’ll remind me

In my first ever blog the very last sentence was ‘I will find pieces of you in every song I listen to’ and being true to my word I have found you in a lyrically beautiful song called “Remind me” by Conrad Sewell. I heard the song on the radio and loved it from that moment. I find myself changing the radio station in the car to find songs that make me feel closer to you – connected by music and messages. Maybe it’s the great love of music that we shared that keeps us connected. I put this song on your 21st dvd as a musical accompaniment to your photos with friends. This time the song is more about me and the grief of missing you and how the little things that remind me….remind me of you….

Weight is on my shoulder, holding me down,Some days it can’t get much darkerFeeling more than ever when your not around –When I think about loveYou are right beside meOh I think about usYou will always find meMy heart is lost I know that you’ll guide meI think about all the little things that still remind me –

I know that you’re right beside me, loving and protecting me from afar and you seem to find me when I need you most, giving me a sign you’re here. Like hearing one of those songs that mean so much, a shadow out of the corner of my eye, visiting me in a dream, seeing a butterfly, dragonfly or a feather. There are so many things that remind me….

– I can’t go shopping without going up the aisles and looking at the food and drinks that you like. The chemo changed your taste in foods and drinks so finding you something you liked and could eat during treatment was hard. But not as hard as not being able to buy your favourites when I see them on special and cook them for you.
– the trip to Prince of Wales Hospital I could do with my eyes closed even to the point of when and where to change lanes to get a better run home and if I didn’t change lanes at the right time, you’d comment and say ‘leaving it a bit late…’
– you loved having a bath. Even with your Hickman’s line in you loved a good soak and I’d have to reinforce the waterproof dressing covering it as it would always start to lift off. I hated the fact that you couldn’t enjoy the simple pleasures of a bath towards the end as the disease had taken away your independence of mobility to walk so we couldn’t get you upstairs for either a bath or shower. I can now say that I’m not as fond of baths as I was before – before our rude introduction to Ewing’s.

You were so much braverBraver than me…..
Throughout your treatment you never complained, or said ‘why me’ and you were so brave. Particularly when we heard the devastating news on Daffodil Day that there was nothing more that the Drs could do to cure you of this parasitic disease.

I hope in time I will draw on happier memories as the most recent ones I have of you make me sad. Those memories are the ones that flash before my eyes as it was all so recent, so quick and so unfair. I will have to look deeper in my vault of memories and smile at what we have. What we have is a wonderful thing. And that thing is ‘love’ between a mother and a son. And these wonderfully happy and funny memories will remind me…..

Beautiful words that bring lots of memories the same. We both share this horrible journey that no mum should ever have to experience but we will always have them in our memories and know that we had the privilege of giving birth and sharing the lives of two beautiful strong amazing warriors and for that we are truly blessed even if some days you would do anything to have them back 🙂

I am so sorry to know of your pain. My great friend lost her young boy Daniel aged 13, to leukemia nearly three years ago. He spent the last many months in hospital in dreadful pain before eventually being allowed home to say goodbye.
The pain and trauma his parents witnessed greatly effected how they grieved initially. Just as you said here,
“I hope in time I will draw on happier memories as the most recent ones I have of you make me sad. ”
they struggled to move past them. However I can assure you that these days as she and I chat, walk and socialise we regularly laugh and greatly enjoy old memories of better days with Dan.
I hope those days come to you and your family too.